Quite the Corundum
by Lizabeth Grey
Summary: The Banks children, a little older, meet Bert in the park one day... and he has something shiny to show them. Silly fluff! Don't mind the lame title. No, it's not a typo, just a terrible pun.


_This is mostly inspired by the stage version of Mary Poppins, which I had to listen to a million times while working at a theater. Open ended fluff, which I might continue later, but at the moment this is all you get. I felt silly, taking all of those H's out of Bert's lines, but what can you do?  
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Jane and Michael Banks -- newly fourteen and twelve, both all elbows and knees -- were running through the park on a glorious day off, blown every direction like kites, when they ran into a familiar figure made also of all elbows and knees and more than a little soot. It, or rather he, was a bent over figure, nose neatly pressed to the chalk landscape developing on the ground beneath him. Stifling their gasps and giggles, the Banks children crept up behind him to watch his progress in silence for a while. Finally, unable to bite his tongue further back, Michael spoke.

"It's a very good likeness, Bert... lovely greens and blues, but you've forgotten the geese!"

"I was jest gettin' to them." the he-named-Bert replied, turning to his audience. Upon recognizing them, he leapt to his feet.

"Why, Jane and Michael, if it isn't a surprise to see you!" He cried, wiping the chalk dust off on his patchwork vest, so he could impart to them both a little luck in the form of a warm handshake. "Where 'ave you lot been of late?"

"We've been ever so busy" Jane explained. "We both of us have lessons now."

"I'm learning about stars!" Michael volunteered.

"A noble subject. But it's jest about time you should be in those lessons, innit it? You're not off on a lark, are you?"

"They were cancelled today." Michael informed him. "Ms. Lydgate found a spider in her desk, and was given over to fits! It took the whole school to calm her, and with all the excitement they said we best have the rest of the day off."

Bert eyed Michael, surmising whether his words rang true and, in case they did, whether he might have been at all behind the stunt. He was finally confidant of the boy's innocence. "Well, then, it's good to see you both. 'Ere," He said, struck by an idea. "Would you like to see something?"

Jane and Michael crowded him around, as from his inner jacket-pocket he pulled a sooty kerchief. From that he produced a little paper bundle, and from the little bundle he further produced a tiny box, which he opened to show the children. Blue sparks and daylight seemed to overflow from off the object inside.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Jane exclaimed.

Bert picked the little object from the box, brushing the sparks and stars off it on his lapel as he talked.

"I was sweeping this 'ouse on Mayfair, and I found this 'ere ring, nearly black with soot, under the grate. So's I called out, 'Ere, someone's lost a ring!' but no one would claim it. And when I tried to give it to the lady of the 'ouse, she said it wasn't 'ers and that I should keep it." He tried it on one of his long, lean fingers. "So's I took it 'ome and cleaned it off, only I don't know what quite to do with it. It doesn't rightly suit me."

"Is that a real sapphire?" Michael, who had recently discovered practicality, asked. He had been learning about gems as well. "Maybe you should sell it and try being rich for a while!"

"You know? That's the one trade I never learned, being rich." Bert took a spell to contemplate. "I don't think I'd like it." He decided. "You can't wear soot on your face nor draw pictures in the park when you're rich. Anyway, that's supposing it's real, and not a bit of fancy glass." He closed and wrapped and bundled it back into his pocket. "No, I was thinking I might give it to someone."

"Oh Bert, that's a marvelous idea!" Jane, who had recently discovered sentimentality, cried. Struck by further inspiration, she continued. "She'll love it!"

"Who?" Michael asked, furrowing his brow in a way that made him suddenly the image of his father. Jane just rolled her eyes at Michael, as if there was only one "she" on the whole Earth.

"Who?" Bert chimed in, earnestly, to Jane's further consternation.

"Oh, you males! Honestly, you have no imagination!" She walked up to Bert and, beckoning him to lean down, whispered in his ear.

"I couldn't do that!" Bert protested.

"Why not? Oh, hush, Michael."

Bert cast about for reasons. "Well, it wouldn't be proper!"

"Less proper than giving it to someone you don't know?"

"Well, but I could always leave it somewhere for someone else to find."

"But how would you know that it was found by someone who really deserved it?"

Michael, who had given up on filling in the gaps and pauses with inquisitive "Who?"s, had been following the discussion with silent gravity and was glad to find a subject he could contribute on. "It could be found by mean Mrs. Norris, down the street, and she always yells at us when we get too close to close to her roses."

Jane nodded her assent, as if it were perfect logic.

"But--" Bert started.

"But it wouldn't be proper, to give the ring to a dear friend?"

"No! Not a dear, _fem'nine_ friend. Not 'less I were interested in marrying 'er, at least."

Jane couldn't see the logic in that at all. She said, simply, "Aren't you?"

Bert didn't rightly have an answer. He thought for a while. Then, done with thinking, was silent for a while longer. Finally he tried a different tact.

"But... Mary is..."

"Mary?" Michael cried, astonished. He felt he had been quite patient through the whole exchange, barely squirming at all, and it was a great relief to finally know of the topic, even if he found it surprising. Jane gave him the same withering look, one of _oh, do keep up, will you_?

Bert continued. "Mary is... Mary is Mary! And you know 'er. She has 'er duty, she's proper, she's real respectable. And what would I 'ave to give 'er?"

"You could start with the ring." Jane suggested.

Again, a point Bert couldn't argue. He had found his match. He knew all of the reasons why it seemed a bad idea in his head, but the moment they made to leave his mouth, they turned into a lot of dandelion fluff and blew off.

After further silence and contemplation, Michael piped up with an unexpected bit of sound thinking. "Wouldn't it be better to have asked, anyway? And even if you just give her it as a present, you know she won't hold it against you. Mary hasn't an ungracious bone in her body."

"Oh please, Bert!" Jane pleaded.

He made no move to give a firm answer, but nodded resolutely, which Jane took for assent.

"It's a thing to think on, least." He allowed.

Jane was overcome, taking the plan to have been set firmly in motion. "Oh Bert, I wish I were a chimney sweep, so I could give you some extra luck." She sighed. "Well, I guess it would be luck to me, to see you happy." She blew him a kiss.

He snatched the kiss from the air right above his shoulder, and brought it to his heart, above the pocket where the little box was stowed. He was truly moved, and for a moment lost the apprehension that this interview had instilled in him. "Thank you, Jane..." he said, touched. "You truly 'ave the best of hearts."

Solemnly, taking cues from his sister, Michael marched over and offered a handshake. Bert extended thanks to him as well.

When this ceremony was through, Bert glanced around himself, recognizing his defeat and serenely accepting it. He endeavored to regain some of his cheerful, carefree demeanor. "Well, anyway... I'll 'ave to see 'er first to give 'er anything. The wind'll 'ave to blow this way 'gain, and who knows when that'll 'appen. Gives me some time to think on it."

"Didn't you know?" Michael chimed up "She blew in yesterday! She's staying at a house on our lane!"

Bert's brows dropped sharply.

"We'll go tell her you're here!" Jane added helpfully.

"'Ere, hold on!" Bert croaked after them in feeble protest, but it was too late. They were off again, their kite strings snapped, being blown by the wind to a loftier resting place.


End file.
